


Gears of War: A.E. Act II

by Croswynd



Series: Gears of War: A.E. [2]
Category: Gears of War - Fandom
Genre: Gears of War, Gnasher, Jonsey Breen, Joseph Nyvar - Freeform, Lancer Assault Rifle, Naleena Viscar, Parker Wilson, Syval Marov - Freeform, Tyler Fais - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-18
Updated: 2011-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croswynd/pseuds/Croswynd





	0. Memoir II: "So Who're You Fighting For?"

"You ever seen the assholes out on the streets, rummaging around in the garbage for food? Seeing them scurry over a COG wreck to scavenge supplies? Those are the good ones, if any of their kind could be "good". That's who we're fighting for? People who don't even care about anything but themselves? I mean, they might be thieving bastards, but they're still people, right? Right?

Yeah, right. Tell that to my daughter. Those animals stole her away during transit to a breeding ground and now she's gone, forever. Damn Stranded aren't going to have any mercy from me. Wish I could get my hand on the Hammer and finish the job the COG started when they roasted most of the planet to stop the Locust. Anyway, since I can't do that, I'll settle for shooting the bastards when Nyvar lets me. There's enough reason to shoot on sight, already, in my opinion, but 'Seph keeps talking about the future, making things safe for the children by keeping the population up. I wonder if what he thinks of the "baby farms". He doesn't have a daughter, so he wouldn't understand about certain things, but I won't hold it against him. He's my best friend.

As much don't really approve of sending my girls to a f*cking farm, where women have nothing to do but make new babies for the "war effort", that's better than the alternative. Dying to a grub bullet or boot as the things ravage Sera like a bunch of, well, locust. Heh, I'm still keeping my humor, even after all this? I must not be right in the head – 'course, who could be after seeing their daughter. . .

I'm not going to go there, not now. Gotta keep my wall up or I'll break down. 'Seph needs me, so does the rook, Ty. I don't know what Ven needs, but I'll stick around for him, too, the lug. My family. Couldn't ask for a better one out in the field, or, hell, even back at the barracks. Gotta look after my own family, too - Caroline and Rene. Rene seems almost a twin of her mother, mischievous and sneaky. Then there's 'Seph's boy; Jason. And everyone here at base, including all those poor souls pumping out children at a steady rate. Heh, I gotta lot of people to protect, huh? Guess I'll keep it up and do my best. That's all anyone can ask of a Gear, right?

People need me. So I'll fight."

-Memoirs of Syval Marov


	10. Oscar Mike

"So, did you hear about Echo Three? I heard they lost their 'bot four days ago. No one knows if any of them are still alive. Hoffman sent another team after them, but they haven't come back either. I hope they're okay. We've lost too many in this war already." – Dom Santiago on the subject of Echo Three's disappearance

 

Somewhere in the forest, 20 km from the Stranded Slave Mine;

0734 hours.

 

"I like this armor."

Syval Marov concealed a grin as he noticed his best friend, Joseph Nyvar, reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose. It had been a long, exhausting night. They had been trekking through the wilderness to find a new place to hide, as their previous location had been compromised. Unfortunately, the pilot, Jonesy "Psycho" Breen, hadn't shut up about the "new digs" he'd been given.

Nyvar was back in his own COG standard issue, the bulky armor seeming more normal for the man than civilian clothes. Marov had to admit the he missed his own plates, but his commander needed him for "special reconnaissance", so he kept the less protected recon armor. It was fashioned with a several plates on the chest and back, leaving the sides open to allow more maneuverability. The groin and sides of the hips held another few plates, with shin and thigh guards strapped around the leg, leaving the rest to the camouflaged underlay. Luckily for him, all that meant he didn't have to put up with the clown the entire night, being forced to scout around with much less effort than a fully armored Gear.

"I'm so. . .glad for you, Jonesy," Nyvar ground out. Marov's grin grew even wider as he looked back toward the rest of the group. Jonesy, with Nyvar's own set of recon armor, was strutting across the rocky ground with all the bluster of a kid with a new toy. The man's pistol was strapped to his chest, under the camouflage cloak that hung down to the man's waist; Marov thought that was a stupid place to put the weapon, but Jonesy was undeterred. The armor was meant for larger men and women, so the pilot's lanky frame reinforced the kid metaphor in Marov's mind.

"Just wish I could have one of those sniper rifles the lady has back there," Jonesy complained. That was the seventh time he had "wished" for one of their weapons.

"I'd quit while you're ahead," Marov said, watching Nyvar slowly start to redden in the face. "You might get one of those weapons turned on you if you're not careful. And I'm not sure I could stop Nyvar, even if I wanted to."

Jonesy just returned the comment with a cheesy smile, playing it off. Marov marveled at that; the man was deserving of his nickname, to be certain. Of course, all the pilots had to be insane to fly through the Nemacyst infested skyways to drop off their Gear squads.

Behind the grounded pilot with the goofy expression and oversized armor were the rest of the team, all lined up in single file. Tyler Fais, bringing up a hand to his face to cover a yawn, had bags under his eyes from staying up and cataloguing the amount of ammo they had before they left the cave, which wasn't much. His brown hair was tousled and gleamed in the early morning sun, the light steadily rising over the horizon. Ty was the newest member of Echo Three, joining their squad shortly before E-Day; still the younger man was in his late twenties and a veteran as much as anyone else on the team.

Next in line was Jason Nyvar, 'Seph's kid, at the tender age of nineteen. He was attentive to his surroundings, his eyes darting from one direction to another like he was expecting a Locust at any moment. Marov didn't blame the kid - even though Jason had grown up with the Locust knocking at the doors of Jacinto, this was still his first mission. Although shorter than Ty, Jason made the difference up with a more muscled frame, taking after his father. His new COG armor suffered from a few scratches and dents, mute evidence of the action he'd already survived these past couple of days.

Marov knew the armor was going to pick up quite a bit more before they finished the mission, whatever that was at the moment. It seemed to have shifted somewhere during the course of the night, after Marov, Nyvar, and Naleena Viscar found the pit of Stranded slaves and their traitorous asshole of a leader, Parker.

As soon as he thought of Naleena, Marov frowned in her direction. He didn't want to like her. She was Stranded, just as much as the animals who'd gotten his daughter had been. However, the woman was also skilled with a rifle and seemed to be loyal to Nyvar and the others. What was worse, Marov had found himself actually enjoying her company; she had a sharp mind and was an excellent scout, almost as good as he was. He snorted at the admission, wiping the frown off his face and stared at her, willing himself to feel something other than the affection he actually felt.

Naleena had her white bandana up around her face again, at odds with the few-sizes-too-big recon armor she was wearing and her raven colored hair. The now off-white cloth obscured all of her features aside from her focused, sky colored eyes. Marov idly wondered if she wore the bandana as a fashion statement or because they all f*cking stank like a dead grub fresh out of the sewers. He shrugged, assuming it was the latter and turned to Nyvar, a question forming on his lips.

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because," Nyvar replied, looking straight ahead with his unreadable face on, "they're people, too, Marov. I don't care what you think of them."

"They're Stranded, 'Seph. Let 'em die like the sorry bastards they are," Marov scoffed.

"We've had this conversation already."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe this time you'll listen to me so we can complete the mission we were supposed to about three days ago," Marov said heatedly, wishing Nyvar would forget about the Stranded slaves.

"Not a chance, Sy'. Humanity's too far gone to just forget a bunch of people being held by the Locust. They'll die if we don't help them and in case you hadn't noticed, there were women and children at that mine, too."

In fact, Marov had noticed; he had just been trying to forget the sight of the little kids picking up rocks to load into carts for their mothers and sisters to push them around. It hit too close to home and he didn't want to think about it. They were Stranded; they deserved what they got. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"Besides, Parker was there, too," Nyvar continued, looking worried. "He's got too much information stuck in his head to leave him alive. I don't want to have to fight invisible Wretches the rest of this damned war. Hell, if we gave him enough time, he'd probably come up with a way to cloak a Brumak."

Marov shuddered, not liking that thought at all. It was bad enough they'd already run into Wretches, little monkey-esque beasts the Locust used like dogs, with cloaking fields. The things fizzled out in the light, the stealth generators not seeming to be able to cloak something bigger than the 'bot's the device was made for. That and the little shimmer they made as they moved were the only reasons Marov could see them at all.

"Fine," Marov said, sighing and resigning himself to the inevitable, "but I want to kill Parker myself. I need some kind of fun after being shot at, betrayed, and almost ripped apart by a Berserker."

He saw Nyvar smile slightly as his best friend turned back to the path. A smile tugged on the edge of Marov's lips, too, glad he was still able to cheer up the dour Sergeant.

"Why don't you go run around a bit, then? Maybe you'll find a drone to poke with a stick or something," Nyvar dryly replied, holding up his hand and swinging two fingers in a circle, the signal to check their surroundings. Marov nodded and looked back to see Naleena had already noticed and was moving up the side of the mountain next to them. Not to be outdone by some floozy who thought she was Gear material, Marov ran after her, only slightly out of breath as he ran up the slope after her. He hated aging almost as much as he hated Stranded.

"Still angry with Nyvar's decision?" Naleena asked as Marov strode up beside her. He gave her a questioning glance, wondering if she knew what he had just been talking about. With a shake of his head, knowing he would never get a straight answer, Marov replied.

"No, this is my normal attitude. I just want to get out of this freezing cold forest and back to base, which requires us actually completing the mission we were given."

"I can sympathize with that," Naleena chuckled; the crinkling of her eyes accompanying the smile her bandana was covering. It faded as she continued. "But so can the women and children in that mine."

"Not like anyone could let me forget," Marov groused, reaching up to pull his goggles down over his eyes. The sun was shining directly in their direction, in between a layer of clouds and the horizon. It would disappear sooner or later, but until then, he'd keep the goggles on. "I guess they're worth saving, if I get to make Parker's head my new hood ornament."

"I'm glad you're being so reasonable about this," she replied sarcastically. Sobering up, she kneeled down to examine something. Marov looked over her shoulder and noticed it was the imprint of a hoof; there were a lot of wild deer out here, which was surprising given the Hammer strikes destroying most of the planet. Suddenly, Naleena continued her previous thought with a more serious tone in her voice. "Actually, I really am surprised you're this okay with it, though. I thought you hated Stranded, like me."

"I do hate Stranded," Marov said honestly, returning her candor with his own, puffing a bit as they went uphill, his breath misting the air in front of him. "But you're not like them. You, I have to live with, soon as we get outta here and get you through Boot. Most of those bastards wouldn't even try to do anything but steal and blame us for everything."

Naleena didn't reply to Marov's dodging of the real question, falling silent and scanning the forest for Locust or signs the grubs had passed through. They didn't spot anything aside from a rabbit dashing through the small drifts of snow and fallen leaves, causing a soft rustle. Marov breathed in through his nose, smelling the sharp bite of the cold air and the heady scent of the forest. He'd always enjoyed camping with his father, back before E-day.

"Why do you hate us?" Naleena whispered wistfully, surprising Marov from his memories. He shrugged in response, not wanting to think of his daughter or the unfortunate fate that had befallen her. He could almost hear her screams on the Frost's air, the miserable season forever seeking to rob his warmth and chill his soul.

"I used to hate the COG," Naleena said. Marov sighed, feeling a touchy feely moment coming on; not his favorite thing to endure in the middle of an enemy infested forest. Still, there didn't seem like any way out. "They took my mother. Forced her into those breeding camps."

"The Farm's not all that bad," Marov replied, thinking of the accommodations the women were given. Comfortable furniture and plenty of things to do as they waited out their pregnancies. "Got all the comforts of home and at least they're safe. My own daughter's in one of them. She's expecting a girl in a month or so."

"Doubtless fathered by some unknown soldier," Naleena scoffed, sounding angry. "How old is she?"

"She's twenty three."

"At least she's not a young girl forced to start early, then, like some of them have had to," Naleena said heatedly, referring to the drugs the COG was giving the women to start their breeding cycles earlier and earlier. Marov was forced to admit that his opinions on the matter were much the same as Naleena's, but he didn't see any other way around it. They needed what little remained of humanity to grow.

"I don't like what they're doing either, darlin'," Marov replied, looking down the slope at the rest of the team far behind them. "But it's not like we have a choice. We're an endangered species these days, case you've been living under a rock the last seven years."

"So we sacrifice our humanity in the process? The procedures are monstrous." Naleena paused and Marov heard her sigh. He was just about to retort that Stranded acted even worse, resorting to cannibalism like they did, when Naleena continued. "But, as you say, we don't have much of a choice. Which is why I'm choosing to stay with you and the others instead of going off with Parker."

"Oh, yeah, that would have been a bad idea, huh?" Marov sneered. "Your own leader would've led you right into a bunch of grubs as thanks for all your hard work. Seems like he's holding to those wholesome Stranded values. Too bad you couldn't make that shot last night."

"Too bad," she reiterated, the corners of her eyes crinkling in what looked like anger. "Not all Stranded are like him. Some of us are just trying to survive."

"Look how well that's done you," Marov said quickly, regretting the words as soon as he uttered them. Naleena glared at him, pulling ahead and leaving him behind. Marov watched her form slowly become indistinct as the camouflage blended in with the deciduous trees all around them. He wasn't so good at this PR bull.

Marov grumbled under his breath, moving quicker to catch up to the young woman, intent on apologizing. However, Naleena held her hand up in a fist, the signal to stop all movement, slowly reaching for the Longshot on her back as she crouched behind a tree. Marov's eyes darted around as he tried to look around, not moving his head in case something saw him in the open. The key to remaining unseen was to act as though one belonged where they were; people saw what they expected to see more often than not, and movement would just alert them. Marov just hoped the fact was the same for grubs.

There. A single grub with a Longshot of its own lay between two bushes. He'd mistaken the thing's pale white skin as another snow drift before. Luckily he had Naleena's sharp, young eyes with him. The woman had finally pulled her weapon around and sighted through the scope at the Locust's conical helmet. A moment later, the shell flew through the air with a sharp cracking retort, showering the grub's immediate proximity with blood, brains, and pieces of the helmet.

"Report," Nyvar's voice came over Marov's comm. He turned toward where the rest of the group was and reached up to tap the device, initiating the circuit and responding quickly.

"Got a sniper, 'Seph. Naleena took care of him, but there might be m-," before he could finish the sentence, another round cracked through the air, followed by an exclamation of pain in a female voice. Marov twisted around as fast as he could, watching Naleena fall to the ground in what seemed like slow motion. He cursed, breaking off the circuit and rushed over to the fallen woman, pulling her behind a tree where he thought the sniper couldn't find them. Another shot ripped through the cold air into the tree above him, confirming his thoughts.

"Sy? Answer me, Sy. Was that another of your shots?"

"Negative," Marov said, initiating the circuit again, warning his friends before they fell under sniper fire. "We have enemy snipers in the hills and Naleena's down. I'm going to see what I can do to fix her up."

"Sh*t. Roger. We'll go hunting. Sending Sparks over to assist you."

"Copy. Marov out."

"Nal," Marov said worriedly, looking at the wound. There was a hole the size of a half dollar just above her left breast and right under the clavicle, the Longshot round having penetrated the thin underlay of the armor with all the ease of a hot knife through butter. Blood was starting to sluggishly leak out of the wound and Marov didn't know exactly what to do. Ven had been their medic, the rest of them only had the very basic first aid skills. Still, if he could fix machines, maybe people weren't that different. He reached for her neck to feel her pulse as he spoke calmly to her.

"Listen to me. Do you hear me?" She nodded, grimacing in pain as she writhed. Good, she wasn't in shock, yet. "Can you move your hands and feet?" Naleena did so, demonstrating that her spinal cord was still intact.

"Okay, I need you to stop moving. Stop moving, understand?" Another nod and she stopped moving aside from a twitch every now and then. He pulled out his combat knife and started cutting through the flexible underlay that held all the plates of the armor together, pulling it to the side when he had ripped it enough. The black bodysuit underneath the armor came apart faster, his knife making a large square around the wound, not wanting to totally destroy the suit.

As it opened to the cold air, Naleena shivered, causing another moan to escape her clenched teeth, her breathing starting to come faster and more insistent. He could hear air hissing in and out of the wound and knew that wasn't the best thing in the world to deal with. The bullet must have penetrated her lung.

 

Marov saw her wince as he pulled out a bandage and push it on the wound, his fingers trailing blood on her dark skin. He started taping three of the sides as best he could, stabilizing her breathing somewhat as the airtight bandage did its work.

"You're doing fine, Nal," Marov said soothingly, watching as Naleena closed her eyes and breathed in a shuddering breath. "Just try to stay awake, okay?"

He reached around her and felt along her back in between the plates. Another, larger hole, the exit wound, was also leaking a steady stream of blood. He hoped the bullet not being in her was a good thing, but he knew he had to do something about it, pronto.

A beeping noise came from behind him, causing Marov to turn around. There, in mid-air, was Sparks, Echo Three's JACK 'bot. Marov was glad to have the little guy here, motioning it over before the sniper could take a shot at it and break it. Again.

"Hey, Sparks, she's got an entry wound right here," he said quickly, pointing at the bandage, "and an exit wound in her back. I'm not sure what I can do for her."

Sparks bobbed in the air, moving over and holding out his appendages. He started by examining the bandage on her chest, booping with satisfaction at it. It looked up at him with one of its eyes cracked and held out an appendage. Marov pulled out all his medical supplies, the 'bot taking it and applying bandages to the exit wound, beeping in what he thought was a worried tone. Minutes passed, sweat beading Naleena's head as the 'bot worked on her. Marov helped where he could, but Sparks seemed to have things in hand, so he reached up for his earpiece and contacted Nyvar.

"'Seph, this is Marov. You read me?"

"Roger that, Sy. Is she ready to move yet?" Nyvar said, sounding out of breath.

"No sir, not for at least another," he paused, looking up at Sparks, who helpfully supplied a countdown on his screen. "Twenty minutes, safest. But she's in bad shape, man. She needs a hospital."

"Sh*t," Nyvar said, sighing heavily over the mic. "Twenty minutes is going to be a problem. We've got a squad of grubs moving along the road a few miles back. Do what you can for her; we'll try to keep 'em off you."

"Roger that. Good luck, 'Seph," Marov said as the circuit closed. "F*ckin' hell. This isn't what we need right now. Why can't anything go right out here?"

He turned back to the 'bot and Naleena, looking down at the young woman with trepidation. This reminded him too much of the way Nyvar's wife had died. Growling, Marov kneeled down to the ground to squeeze Naleena's hand. He wasn't going to lose another member of his family to these grubs!


	11. Grave

“I never liked being underground. My mom and dad used to take me down into deep caves, but I could never go very far. Something about that much weight over my head, I feel like it’s pressing down on me. I just want to get out, out of the dark. It’s pressing in all around, all the time. That’s where the monsters are.” – Naleena Viscar’s Diary, written thirteen years ago.

Somewhere in the forest,  
0843 hours.

They were running out of time. Marov looked around, trying to spy the grubs that were swarming their little area of forest. Nyvar had said a few of the Locust had gotten past their barricade, which wasn’t surprising with the vast amount of wood. Still, that meant Marov had to keep on his toes in case they tried to sneak around him to Naleena.

He was leaning his back against a tree, the hard bark biting into his back where the armor was not covering. Breathing hard, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing, sweat pouring down his face and into his beard. Even with the cold temperature, he was perspiring enough to fill a pool. Something sounded off to his left, a slight crack of a twig. He opened his eyes and felt an icy hot sensation fill his body.

Time seemed to almost stop around him, leaves falling to the ground buffeted by the snow flurries in slow motion. The mist of his breath came in tiny puffs; out, pause, in, pause. His adrenaline fueled eyes seemed to dart around, taking in every detail of the forest as he swung around the tree, Lancer leading. A flash of white ahead of him and to the left warned him of the grub. Marov smiled, pulling the trigger, the Lancer kicking back against him in what seemed a semi-automatic rate.

Blood misted into the frozen air as the Locust twitched against each bullet, the pale hide blossoming into red. It fell to the ground, but Marov was already twisting to the right to catch a normal Wretch in the brain pan. The thing’s head exploded in a shower of gore, its grating cry cut short as the bullet tore through. It crumpled in a heap in front of him, brain splashing onto his heavy combat boots. He kicked it away as he ran to the nearest tree, bullets ripping through the air next to him, heat blasting past his skin at the near misses. Just as he flung himself into a summersault, a bullet dug into his lower leg, eliciting a cry of pain.

“Shit,” Marov yelled, dropping one hand to his injured appendage, feeling for the wound as he stared toward the rocks he’d dragged Naleena behind. The slightest hint of Sparks’ flank was exposed, bobbing up in down as he worked on the woman. Marov hoped she was doing alright. The sound of scrabbling came from just around the tree; another Wretch, he thought. With a quick move, he pulled out his knife with his left hand and stabbed out to the side, catching the second Wretch in the throat. It gurgled as its claws came up, scrapping across Marov’s gauntlets.

“Die, you piece of shit,” Marov muttered, twisting the knife and ripping it out with a spray of blood. The thing twitched and fell to the ground, blood leaking into the snow and causing steam to rise.

“Guess I gotta make sure Sparks has enough time to make her alright,” he said as he put his knife away, the stinging sensation in his leg momentarily gone as he distracted himself with talk. “Damn grubs’ve shot me full of enough holes as is this week.”

With that, he clenched his teeth and roared as he put weight on the leg, barely holding him up as he stood. He leaned against the tree for support, firing his Lancer at an approaching Drone. It rolled to the side as he fired, his bullets missing their mark. Marov cursed as he swung around the other side of the tree, bullets thudding into his cover and shaking more leaves to the ground. The Drone was behind a tree, its thick arms not able to be completely hidden by the trunk, so Marov aimed and fired directly at him.

It snarled in pain and fell forward, catching itself before it tumbled to the ground. Then more bullets slammed into its back, Marov taking full advantage of the thing’s momentary weakness and drilling it to the ground.

“Get back in your damn hole,” Marov yelled over his Lancer’s chatter. Suddenly, his weapon started clicking, no longer expelling bullets from its sturdy frame. “Aw, shit, not now!”

Reaching for his side to grab some more ammo, Marov came up with nothing. He looked down to see his ammo belt empty – he hadn’t realized he’d exhausted the rest of his clips. Gunfire forced him to lean back into cover, making sure to avoid the grub’s mistake and tucking his arms in. Without any ammo, Marov wasn’t too happy about his chances at living through the next few minutes.

“Shit, who needs bullets anyway?” Marov asked loudly into the air, peeking around his cover to see a grub with a Lancer of its own. Knowing the amount of bullets in a clip, he waited until he was sure the thing ran dry and burst from cover. He roared in fury and pain as he ran toward the grub, who was baring its teeth while it tried to reload. Marov knew it was going to be close, but he thumbed his Lancer’s chainsaw attachment and ran faster. The grub gave up trying to reload; opting to resort to its own melee equivalent, the whirring of two chainsaw bayonets dulled in Marov’s ringing ears.

They met in a clash of sparks, Marov gritting his teeth as he brought his weapon down, surprised at the amount of resistance the grub offered. The skittering of the chainsaw’s teeth was hurting his ears, as if someone were drilling into Marov’s head. His muscles bulged as he used all his tremendous strength to deflect his opponent’s Lancer to the side, the grub swinging to the left from overexertion. Marov knew he had the Locust.

Then his injured leg failed him, forcing him to one knee, crying out in pain. However, Marov used the move to his advantage, pivoting in a circle with his Lancer held out in front of him. He felt the hot rush of the grub’s bayonet as it passed over his neck, skipping off of the plate of armor on his back as he turned. The momentum of the turn combined with Marov’s strength as he brought his chainsaw into the back of the grub’s leg, in the seam between boot and leg armor.

“How do you like that, mother fucker?” Marov yelled as blood sprayed into his face, the weapon ripping through the joint in the armor with ease. There was a slight catch as the teeth of the chainsaw caught the grub’s femur, but it recovered and ripped out through the grub’s kneecap with an explosion of blood and bone. With a grunt, Marov shoved his shoulder into the grub with all his might, sending it to the ground, its detached foot still standing.

Pushing the boot aside, Marov crawled toward the Locust, dropping his Lancer to the side. With his leg sending shocks of pain to his brain with every movement, Marov climbed on top of the grub, his knee in between its legs. When it tried to swat at him with the still powered Lancer, Marov just pulled out his knife and stabbed it into the thing’s wrist, pinning the arm to the ground as the grub dropped the gun.

“You don’t mess with the COG, you sonofabitch,” Marov yelled, spittle flying from his lips as he brought his fist around and smacked it into the thing’s face, twisting its head to the side. It reached with its free arm and clawed into Marov’s cheek, dragging down. Fuck, that hurts, Marov thought as he grabbed the clawing arm and put all his weight into pinning to the earth. He hopped around the grub’s body and kneeled on the arm with his good knee, putting both his gloved hands up in the air and bringing it down hard on the grubs face.

A dull thud sounded, followed by gurgling wheezes as the thing tried to breathe through its broken nose. Marov brought his hands down again. Another thud, Marov’s breathing digging a stitch in his side, sweat dripping off of his marred face onto the Locust’s armor. With enormous effort, he picked his hands up one more time and, yelling, brought them both down as hard as he could. There was a crack as the grub’s skull caved in, Marov’s hands drenched in blood.

Fighting the urge to vomit as the corpse twitched spasmodically, Marov rolled off the grub, looking into the sky. A leaf landed on his forehead, but he was too weak to even swat it away, just laying there and hoping there wasn’t another grub about to come finish him off. Pain was lancing through his hands, his leg, and his face, but Marov just swallowed and closed his eyes, breathing hard.

“Marov, this is Nyvar. Time’s up, we need to move, now,” Nyvar’s harried voice came over the channel, breaking into the quiet forest. Sighing and wincing as he brought his hand up to his ear, he initiated the connection, responding in between breaths.

“Yeah, okay,” Marov said quickly, stopping and pulling in a shuddering breath as more pain hit him. He grunted as he rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself up on to his hands and knees, the goggles over his doo rag digging into his forehead. His body seemed extraordinarily heavy as he lurched to his feet, favoring his wounded leg. “What’s going on down there?”

“They’ve got a Corpser causing trouble,” Nyvar said, interrupted by an explosion. “Ty, shoot that damn Grenadier. Jason, pull back. We’re not doing to hot here. Shit!” Static hissed into the channel for a second, causing Marov’s heart to jump into his throat. “Pull back! Marov, we’ll meet you at the caves. Nyvar, out.”

Another explosion sounded over the circuit just before it clicked off, Marov tiredly pulled off the dead grub’s ammo belt and clipping it to his own. He grabbed the thing’s Lancer as an afterthought, clamping it to his back. The world around him was a little fuzzy, but Marov knew he needed to keep moving, keep going, or Naleena and he would be dead. He staggered over to where Naleena was laying, her eyes still lucid as she looked at him.

“You look like you just got in a fight with a Boomer,” Naleena whispered, wincing slightly as Sparks stabbed a needle into her chest. The robot looked up and beeped its agreement, coming at him with a new syringe in its appendage.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Marov said, backing away from the needle, “no need for that, Sparks. We need to go. There’s no time to sedate me.”

Sparks managed to look dejected as it put away the syringe, floating down to grab the first aid kit. When it tucked the kit close to its frame, it looked at him and beeped reproachfully. At least, that’s what Marov thought it sounded like; machines spoke to him all the time like that.

“Hey, now,” Marov started, stopping as a coughing fit came over him. Recovering, he looked into the ‘bot’s eyes as it lifted it’s cracked “eye” up in an imitation of an eyebrow lift. Marov frowned at that, wondering just how intelligent the little machine was. Shaking his head, he bent down and grabbed Naleena’s Longshot and clipped it to his back, too. Stooping down again, he grabbed the wounded Stranded, holding her in front of him shakily with his own weapon across her stomach. However, his foot held beneath him as he moved forward, slowly.

“You weigh a frikkin’ ton, girly,” Marov said through clenched teeth as he soldiered on toward the rendezvous. The caves were only ten minutes away, but that was going to prove difficult if he didn’t get some help with his load.

“Not something you,” Naleena started, wincing in pain as he tripped slightly, jarring her. “Say to a lady,” she continued.

“Yeah, well, I’m too old to care right now,” Marov said, feeling his age in his back, as if his spine were twisting with every footfall. “And wounded. And tired. And…”

He rattled on, trying to stay awake as his vision blurred again. Naleena softly tapped him on the face, bringing back everything into sharp reality.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Marov nodded, still moving forward, slowly, thinking of his kids as he held her frail form. He hoped carrying her wasn’t causing her any damage; still, Sparks was a good a surgeon as they had out in the field and Naleena was a survivor, Stranded as she was. The thought drove his mind down darker paths.

“They killed my daughter,” Marov whispered, a tear sliding down his face in a combination of old pain and new stresses. “Ate her like fucking animals. That’s why I hate them. Stranded.”

Naleena looked up at him with compassion in her eyes. Marov tried to ignore it and kept talking, partially intent on keeping them both awake and partially just to have someone to vent to.

“I can’t do anything but hate them,” Marov continued, “even though there might be some strong, sane ones like you out there. But I still want them all to die, painfully, just like she did. I don’t care if they deserve it. Might make me a bad person for thinking that way, but that’s how I feel about your ‘people’. Maybe I’m just too old to forgive, too set in my ways.” He paused, looking into the forest with a determined gleam in his eyes, his walls coming back up. “Whatever. That’s why I hate them. So there you go. Now you know.”

Naleena didn’t reply except to squeeze his arm, which was bruised. Trying not to wince from her good intentions, Marov cursed inwardly. Wishy washy moments weren’t his thing.

Presently, Marov heard the sound of heavy boots thudding into the ground behind him. Using the last failing bit of his energy, he looked back, relieved to see Jason and Jonesy running toward him, followed closely by Nyvar and Ty. They all look harried, dust caked on their skin and bits of blood on their armor.

“You look good,” Jonesy said sarcastically, falling to his knees and catching his breath. “You get a haircut or something?”

“A little off the top, yeah,” Marov returned just as caustically, almost falling over. “Someone mind grabbing her?”

“I’ll get her,” Jason replied, rushing forward, concern etched over his face.

“About damn time,” Marov said, gratefully handing Naleena over to Jason. With a gentleness that belied his heavily armored form, the Nyvar’s kid took the girl and spoke with a frown plastered on his face.

“You weigh a ton.”

Marov stared at the kid for a second, and then broke into wheezing laughter at the combination of the sentence and Naleena’s glare in his direction. He dropped to his knees as his laughter turned into a cough, his ribs hurting as the mirth and pain surged through him. As he recovered, Marov felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look into Nyvar’s worried eyes, his hand pointing down at Marov’s leg.

“You get shot, again?” Nyvar asked seriously. Marov scowled at the ‘again’, but nodded, leaning onto Nyvar’s proffered shoulder.

“Yeah. That happens when you take on five grubs at once,” Marov grumbled, exaggerating only slightly as the air grew colder around them. Nyvar seemed to catch on to the lie, grinning as they all moved toward the caves, more and more snow drifting down.

“Uh huh. Well, we,” he motioned to Ty, Jason, Jonesy, and himself, “faced about six of the damn things and a Corpser and we don’t have any holes in us.”

“A Corpser,” Marov scoffed. “Like that’s a challenge for these younglings. Hell, remember that Khimera we took out that almost toasted you back in the Pendulum Wars?”

“I remember flying and burning,” Nyvar muttered as they surged up a rise. The gaping maw of a cave appeared as they crested the ridge, a welcome sight to Marov. It meant they had cover and shelter from the damn snow, which was picking up in intensity. The powdery white stuff was coming down in an almost impenetrable sheet, now.

“Mmm, burning,” Ty said from behind them, shivering slightly as they slowed down and walked into the cave. “I could use a little of that right now.”

“Me, too,” Marov started to say, but was interrupted as the world started shaking around them. He looked up at the roof of the cave, noticing dust and gravel submitting to gravity. “Oh, come on!”

“Cave’s coming down!” Jason yelled, looking toward the front of the cave. “Must be that damn Corpser!”

“Shit. Alright, everyone move further back into the cave,” Nyvar ordered.

“We’re going farther into the cave?” Jonesy asked incredulously.

“What else are we going to do? If we go outside, we’ll freeze to death or get stomped on by a Corpser. At least this way we might find a more stable cavern.”

The rumbling increased above them, causing Marov to curse as he hopped down the hall with Nyvar’s support. Sparks turned on his lights as they went deeper into the darkness, the wind howling from outside the cave like it was angry they had escaped its wintry fury. Then it cut off, the sound of rock crashing down directly behind them, the light dimming from behind.

Marov pushed Nyvar ahead of him and dove forward as the rocks came down around them. He curled into a ball and prayed he wouldn’t be buried alive, a few medium sized rocks banging into his armor. As suddenly as it started, the shaking and cave-in ceased.

“Everyone okay?” Nyvar’s voice echoed in the cavern.

“Aside from being buried the fuck alive, I think I’m good,” came Jonesy’s caustic reply.

“We’re fine, too,” Jason said, still holding Naleena. In the pale luminescence of Sparks’ lights, Marov spotted blood running down across the kid’s face from a cut on his forehead.

“Ty?” Marov said, coughing. He looked around for the recruit, panicking.

“Over here,” came the young man’s voice, pained. “Got my arm stuck under some rocks.”

Marov staggered over and saw a large boulder on the man’s arm, covering it from the shoulder down. Grunting with effort, Marov leaned into it and picked it up enough to let Ty pull his arm out from under it.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” Ty said, rubbing his arm with his good hand. “I’m starting to hate this mission.”

“Just now, huh?” Marov muttered, looking around. The way they had come from was filled with rocks, impassable. The chamber they were in had a few stalactites hanging from the roof, dripping water down on the floor. When he looked down he noticed a steady stream of water furrowing its way across the stone and disappearing into a gap in the far wall. At least they had water.

“How’s Naleena?” Ty asked, wincing as he moved his arm, a tone of concern in his voice.  
Sparks booped cheerfully, displaying a thumbs up on his display. Marov privately thought the ‘bot was a bit of an optimist, but good news was good news. They needed it when everything else around them was going to hell in a hand basket.

“I’m going to assume that means she’s fine,” Jonesy supplied with his customary snarky tone, his voice getting more and more panicked as it went on. “But what about us? We’re in a damn cave with no way out. What’re we going to fuckin’ do now?”

“Alright, calm down. Let’s rest, refill our water, and take stock of the situation,” Nyvar calmly stated, spying the small stream Marov had seen. “Ty, check our ammo. Jason, see what kind of food we have.”

“Yes sir,” they said, sluggishly moving to their tasks, their faces both turned in concern to Naleena.

“Marov, keep an eye on Naleena and let Sparks take care of that wound. We move out in ten.”

“Then what?” Marov asked as he slid down a wall, taking off his boot and covering the wound with a bandage Sparks gave him. There was a small hole drilled through the middle of his calf. That sucked, he thought as he closed his eyes and tied the bandage off.

“We go spelunking. Gotta be another exit somewhere.”

“Fuck,” Jonesy said; and that about summed up the general mood.


	12. Keep All Extremities Inside the Light

“You know, I’m not sure why I’m here. I don’t need a f*cking psych eval’. We all know I’m crazier than a blood mount on a feeding frenzy. I fly a friggin tin can into enemy fire and exploding squid on a daily basis. Huh? You wanna know why I do it? I do it because I just don’t care anymore; there’s nothin’ left for me to care about. So I’m going to keep going out there and shuttle around those ground pounders until I burst into flame or get shot out of my cockpit by some rookie with an itchy trigger finger. Are we done? Good. Now let me get back to my bird.” - Jonsey "Psycho" Breen during his yearly evaluation

 

Outer Hollow, Lethia’s abandoned tunnels

1040 hours.

 

There was something depressing about being underground, as if the weight of the entire world were resting just overhead. No one was really in a mood to talk, aside from Jonesy, so they’d walked in relative quiet, alert for any sign of Locust. There hadn’t been another quake since they were trapped, but Marov periodically looked up at the ceiling, trying to maneuver himself so he was never underneath a stalactite. Just in case.

“Alright, who sh*t their pants?”

Marov rolled his eyes at Jonesy’s remark, also smelling the unpleasant odor of Imulsion. The stuff left a sour taste in the back of his mouth, but he was used to the smell, having been around it back when he’d just been an engineer. Leaning on Ty to alleviate the pressure on his wounded foot, Marov took stock of his leg. The pain had receded somewhat; Sparks had injected some kind of cocktail into his ankle. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn the ‘bot had let out a condescending series of beeps when it had stabbed the needle in. Still, it was a thought for another time, after they got out of the massive complex where ‘dodge the stalactites’ was the main sport.

They had been walking for the past hour, Sparks’ bright, cheery light leading them down the pressing confines of the tunnels. So far, there wasn’t much sign of an exit, which seemed to get Jonesy into an even jitterier talking mood than normal. Marov idly wondered if the man was claustrophobic - a smile worked its way under his bushy mustache as he thought of ways to exploit that.

“Don’t think what your smelling is what your really smelling, Jonesy,” Jason replied to the pilot’s inane remark, his voice falling into a more intellectual format. The kid was holding Naleena’s injured body in his arms, the girl’s legs dangling over one arm and her head lolled against Jason’s breastplate. Ty and Sparks had removed most of her armor as best they could; both to check for any new wounds and to make it easier to carry her.

The woman hadn’t spoken since the cave-in, which worried Marov a bit, knowing the dangers of the wounds that had been inflicted on her body. However, when he had Sparks take a look at her, she seemed fit to be moved. The ‘bot had stabilized the woman as best it could with the resources supplied, but she’d be out of the fight for awhile, if she could get back into it at all. Marov knew Nal’ wouldn’t be eager to hear that. He’d save it until after they were somewhere relatively safe.

“We’re in the Outer Hollow, near the Imsulsion Facility,” Jason continued, breaking into Marov’s mother hen thoughts. “Stands to reason we might be picking up a whiff of the stuff from somewhere further in.”

"Kids these days,” Jonesy sighed, putting a palm to his forehead. “They just can’t see a joke when it walks up and bites them in the ass.”

“Is it safe to be breathin’ that stuff?” Ty worriedly replied, his lightly bearded face falling into a frown. Marov noticed the visual display of emotion, his own face assuming the same expression in response. Not much made the kid frown genuinely; besides, Marov was wondering the same thing.

“Uh, I don’t think we’ll be negatively harmed by it,” Jason said, huffing slightly as he shifted his grip on Naleena. “Though I...”

The kid trailed off as Sparks’ light slowly dimmed, the ‘bot making a melancholy booping noise. Marov closed his eyes and sighed. What else could go wrong? No, wait. Scratch that. Forget I thought anything.

“Marov?” Nyvar asked as he leaned against a wall leading to the next bit of cavern. The man’s voice filled with annoyance at the unsettling display, though Marov knew Nyvar was just as nervous about it as he was.

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere, Sparks, lemme take a look at you,” Marov said nonchalantly, leaving Ty and hopping over to the floating JACK unit. It lost altitude, coming to rest at head height in front of him. With his frown deepening, Marov tapped a button on the side of the ‘bot, bringing up a softly lit screen with indicators and menus staring harshly at him. He pressed another button and waited for the next series of options to pull up. Nothing happened. With a grumble, he banged a fist against the machine, drawing a surprised string of electronic noises from Sparks; however, the screen changed to the location Marov desired.

“Nice. You know what would happen if I treated my Raven like that? She’d probably do a nosedive in revenge,” Jonesy said acidly from Marov’s side. As he turned to look, the pilot continued, “Anyway, what’s the word, my mechanically gifted friend?”

Marov hid a grin, watching the pilot nervously look side to side around the cavern as he sallied up closer to the light. Now would be the perfect time to test the other man’s composure.

“The ‘bot’s taken a lot more damage than I thought. He’s malfunctioning and I’m not sure I can put him back together into a workable format. We might have to make do with feeling our way along,” Marov whispered with a grim frown. The expression on Jonesy’s face almost caused Marov to give it away right there. He turned away, squeezing his nose with one hand as if trying to think, barely holding back a laugh.

“R-really?”

“No, pff, not really,” Marov said, turning back, biting one of his gloved fingers to stop from busting out with a loud guffaw. Jonesy glared at him, causing Marov’s stomach to tighten as he went into mirth-inspired convulsions, a slight wheeze escaping him as he laughed. “Sparks’ just, heh heh, running low on power.”

“F*ck you, dude. That just ain’t right,” Jonesy said, the light from the screen showing his face going red with anger and embarrassment. Marov doubled over, his hands on his knees, wheezing with restrained laughter. “Asshole. Next time you ride on my Raven, I’m pushing you out, headfir-.”

“Shh!” Nyvar hissed over their conversation, instantly dispelling the humor. Marov turned toward the sound of the voice, his best friend’s silhouette still hovering by the wall that turned into the next chamber. Marov reached for his side arm, pulling it with a swift, practiced motion, a small amount of adrenaline threading its way through his veins as he became instantly alert. The cool, bone hilt reassured him somewhat, as it always did. His ears strained as he tried to sense what spooked the man.

Then he heard it; a soft, chittering sound, echoing shrilly in the distance. Marov knew what made that noise – it was one of two things that could make his heart freeze with fear.

Kryll.

“Sh*t,” Nyvar said, his voice carefully modulated, even though Marov knew the man was almost panicking. “Marov, how ‘bout those lights?”

“Sparks’ out of juice, ‘Seph,” Marov replied, returning to the screen to see if he could drain power from something else to the lights. He faintly heard Naleena asking what was going on, but he remained concentrated on his task. “Might be able to turn ‘em back on, but someone’s going to have to carry the ‘bot. Gonna need the power from the repulsorlifts to run it.”

“How long will they stay on? That’s kind of important.”

“Uh, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes,” Marov said, unsure exactly how much power the lights drew from the battery.

“Wonderful. It’ll have to do,” Nyvar grunted, turning to Jason and pointing at the ‘bot. “Hand Naleena to Ty and grab Sparks. Tie it to your back, lights facing up. That should give us enough protection from the Kryll.”

Marov tried to ignore the obvious “I hope” that Nyvar left unsaid as he pressed another bunch of buttons, trying to reroute power through the system menu. However, as became exceedingly apparent to him, that wasn’t something he could do remotely. Sparks had suffered enough damage to keep him locked out of the crucial systems – a failsafe in case a ‘bot was taken out in hostile territory and unable to be recovered.

“Marov?” Nyvar yelled over the growing wall of sound, his Lancer out and pointed down the hall where the Kryll were coming from, opening up on them to stave them off. “Now would be nice.”

“Aw, sh*t. Sh*t. Just what we need. F*cking Kryll and we’re in the darkest part of Sera. I think I would’ve stood a better chance with the damned giant spider back there!” Jonesy yelled, hovering close to Marov. Jason came up beside them, holding his hands out under the ‘bot’s heavy, metal form.

Trying to ignore the pathetic mewling from the pilot and the Lancer fire coming from Nyvar, Marov pulled out his tools and unscrewed one of the panels on the side of the ‘bot. A dozen wires, lit by an internal light, crisscrossed about the small space. Marov picked the one connected to the lifts and unhooked it, plugging it into an auxiliary input. When nothing happened, he pushed the wire in a little harder, sweat starting to bead on his brow. The ‘bot dropped like a stone, Jason catching it with a grunt, his expression betraying the surprise of Sparks’ weight. The JACK unit booped reproachfully, its one working eye swiveling to face Marov, as if it didn’t enjoy being cut off from its only source of movement.

“Alright, Sparks’, light us up,” Marov said anxiously, ignoring the machine’s look. The deafening shrieks were getting painful; they were almost out of time. With his eyes glued to the lights, Marov flicked one of the bulbs with a finger. They winked on sluggishly, pale radiance lighting up the small cavern they were in. Just in time, too, Marov thought as the screeching reached a fever pitch, a swarming dark mass bursting into the cavern and hissing as the Kryll reacted to the light. Echo clustered together around Jason, the ‘bot on his back their only shield from the bladelike wings.

“Oh f*ck. Is it my damn imagination or are some of those little f*ckers glowing?” Jonesy cried as they moved quickly out of the cavern, the dark mass swirling around them. Marov saw what the pilot was talking about, noticing a few of the Kryll pulsing with a sickly, yellow glow. That looked like a whole lotta no fun. It reminded him unsettlingly of Imulsion, which was explosive under the right conditions.

“Uh, when did they start doing that?” Ty questioned, following Jason and Nyvar as the men ran forward into where the Kryll were coming from, trying to find some kind of safe harbor.

“Doesn’t matter. We need to find somewhere safe before Sparks runs out of all available power,” Marov said, raking his brain for a solution. “These are abandoned mines, right? Maybe we can find a way station or something.”

“Yeah, the miners probably knew about these little guys, right?” Jonesy’s voice squeaked out as they ran to stay within the light.

“Actually, no one knew about the Kryll ‘til E-Day,” Jason said in his “know-it-all” voice, seemingly unaffected by the scene around them. It almost sounded like the kid was interested in getting up close and personal with Kryll. Marov was glad the kid knew so much about the Hollow, but he wasn’t sure he liked the fascination with something that could kill the kid in a split second. Of course, with the light in Jason’s possession, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine the kid felt safer than the rest of them.

“Oh, great. So, we just keep running and hope we find somewhere where these flying knives can’t stab us before our light runs out? F*ck that. Maybe this’ll drive ‘em off,” Jonesy yelled over the chittering of the Kryll. The pilot pulled out his pistol and shot into the swarm before Marov could stop him. He suddenly regretted not mentioning his suspicions as the first shot struck one of the glowing bat-things.

A bright light flared from inside the swarm, causing the “flying knives” to shriek even louder. Marov had to hold a hand over his left ear, the sound stunning him into motionlessness. Pain lanced into the hand holding his ear as the light moved away from him, persuading his immobile muscles to unlock. Hissing, he jumped back toward the others, stumbling on his wounded foot and falling to the rocky ground. Something hard banged into his codpiece, sending another sharp pain through his synapses. Great, I’m gonna die in a fetal position clutching my balls. What a way to go, Marov thought angrily.

Luckily, Jason had apparently noticed Marov’s hesitation, as he wasn’t being ripped limb from limb by the mass of ravenous Kryll. However, the relief he felt was short lived; sharp cracks and pops mingled with bright fireworks going off as one glowing Kryll after another exploded in a chain reaction. Then the first rock fell, hitting Marov in the shoulder.

“Another f*cking cave in? Really?!” Jonesy yelled, pulling Marov to his feet and holding him up as they all ran faster, dodging rocks as they wended their way down a particularly large cavern. Marov felt his adrenaline spiking as they ran, the pain in his leg and hand fading away. A steady, yellow glow distinguishable from Sparks’ bright light appeared at one of the many exits from the huge space.

“’Seph!”

“I see it,” Nyvar yelled, running to the corner. The man stopped, shoving his kid in front of him to lead the way as he looked back at his charges. Marov lurched past Jonesy as a rock fell between them, motioning Nyvar to keep moving. The shockwave from the boulder sent Ty into a forward falling motion, but Marov grabbed the man by the massive collar, steadying Ty. Naleena cried out in agony as a rock hit her. They needed to get out of here before they were really buried alive.

“C’mon, Sy’, I can’t have you getting crushed by a rock,” Nyvar quipped, dust and pebbles falling down on him as Marov and Jonesy caught up. Marov just nodded and closed his eyes, coughing as he inhaled dust of his own. When he opened his eyes again, he was around the corner, looking directly at a heavy metal hatch set in a large bunker type of building. A way station, in case of situations just like the one they were in now.

Pumping his legs even harder, Marov ran through the door-frame, closely followed by Jonesy and Nyvar. His forward motion stopped as he slammed into the opposite wall with his shoulder, grunting in pain as the pilot impacted his back, quickly followed by a dreadful thought. Oh, no, Nyvar’s going to-

Another, harder force slammed into him, eliciting a cry from the pilot and pushing the rest of Marov’s air out of his lungs. He fell to the ground, Jonesy and Nyvar landing on top of him in a pile of heavy armor. Marov felt his best friend’s Lancer bayonet scratching one of the places where the recon armor’s plates didn’t cover.

“Close the door! Now!” Nyvar roared over the collapsing tunnel.

A heavy clang sounded as Jason shoved his weight against it, a plume of dust shooting in just as it closed and locked with an audible click. Marov watched as the kid leaned against the door with his chest heaving from exertion. The adrenaline tapered out of Marov’s system as he dropped his head to the cool, metal floor, staring up and trying to get his own breath back. Silence reigned, aside from their breathing and a feminine moaning. Sparks’ lights were still on, illuminating the small space.

“Jason? Ty?” Nyvar barked between breaths, his head somewhere by Marov’s legs. “Everyone alright?”

“No, sir. Nal’s turning pale. I don’t think that dust was good for her,” Ty replied quickly. Marov gritted his teeth, suddenly angry at the universe. Everything was f*cking going wrong!

“Dammit. Lay her on that table,” Nyvar ordered as he lifted himself off of Marov’s chest, pulling Jonesy up with him. Marov turned over on his side, trying to keep Ty in sight as the man laid Naleena out on a pull-out bench. When he moved his left hand to pick himself up, he noticed something odd.

He no longer had a ring finger, and his index finger had a deep cut in it. The pain hit him just as he looked at it, his synapses finally registering the loss as the adrenaline ebbed. Clenching his teeth, Marov pulled out a wad of gauze from his belt and stuffed it over the wounds, hissing as the material came in contact. Luckily, his wedding band was on a chain around his neck; he would have hated losing it.

“Jason, bring Sparks over here. Aw, sh*t,” Marov heard Nyvar mutter. “Her chest wound’s reopened. We need Sparks up and running. Marov? Come ove- What the hell happened?”

Marov grinned, or tried to, holding up his wounded hand as Nyvar turned around and stared in horror.

“Don’t think I’ll be much, errg, help right now. Ty can do it. He’s at least a good a mechanic as I am.”

“Ty?”

The younger member of Echo Three started, looking up at them and then nodding.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do it. Hold on.”

He squeezed Naleena’s hand as he moved over to the ‘bot on Jason’s back, looking at the space where Marov had removed the casing. Blowing out a breath, Ty ran a hand through his sweat stained hair and dug into Sparks’ side.

“We’re going to need some light. Once I turn his repulsors back on, all the power’s going to drain from his bulbs,” Ty said, looking at his Sergeant and then down to Naleena, who was coughing and wheezing.

“Alright. Jason, go find a lantern, a flare. Anything.”

“Yes, sir,” the kid replied, turning away and rummaging through a drawer on the far side. With nothing else to do and in an effort to distract himself from Naleena’s situation, Marov dragged himself over to the wall nearest him and sat against it. His hand had stopped bleeding profusely, but Marov didn’t remove the bandage. Instead, he grabbed some more gauze and covered the blood-soaked ones with it. Removing the original bandage would just yank off the clotting and cause more bleeding.

Something on the floor drew his attention away from his wound. On the floor lay a folded piece of paper, covered in dirt and footprints. Marov picked it up with his unwounded hand, unfolding it as best he could one handed. It ruslted slightly as it opened. His eyes scanned across it in the dim light from Sparks’ bulbs. It looked like a map.

A crackle sounded from where Jason was, causing Marov to look up. The kid was glowing green, a glow stick in his hand. He tossed one near Marov and bent another one, handing it to Ty. The ‘bot’s lights winked off, the glow sticks giving just enough light to see around them.

“Sparks? I need you to take a look at Naleena. I think the dust is aggravating her chest wound,” Nyvar said as soon as Ty reengaged the repulsorlifts. The ‘bot tilted its head and looked down at the girl, hovering over her and blocking Marov’s view. Nyvar, his teeth clenched as he patted the girl’s arm, strode over to where Marov was leaning against the wall, sliding down with his knees up and his head in his hands.

“Hey,” Marov ventured after a minute of silence. Nyvar looked up, a surprised expression on his face, as if he didn’t really believe what was going on around him. Marov had seen that look before.

“I know,” Nyvar replied grudgingly, casting his eyes downward. “Ain’t my fault. Don’t blame myself, yada yada.”

“Exactly. Blame Jonesy, instead. He shot the Kryll,” Marov joked weakly. The pilot looked over from where he had been standing out of the way, uncharacteristically quiet. A sneer popped onto the man’s face as he replied in his customary acidic tone.

“Hey, I got rid of them, didn’t I?”

“Shut it, flyboy,” Marov returned, shooting the man a warning look. Jonesy just rolled his eyes and turned around, muttering under his breath, suddenly finding something interesting about the wall. Naleena half moaned, half coughed again, drawing all their attention to her. She quieted down as Sparks injected her with something. Marov wasn’t sure it was safe getting as many shots as the ‘bot kept administering, but who was he to judge?

“How’s the hand?”

“Well, considering I’m still alive, I can’t really complain of losing a finger,” Marov replied to his friend, wincing at the reminder of his injury. “Still, my wife’s going to kill me. Can’t wear my ring properly.”

Nyvar smiled at that, a little sadly, in Marov’s opinion. Thinking quickly before Nyvar could return to the dark place he had been, Marov passed him the paper he’d found. The man took it, reaching for the glow stick and holding it over the page.

“Found a map. ‘Least we know where we are.”

“Lotta good that does us,” Nyvar replied, setting the glowstick and map down and leaning his head against the wall. “Half our team’s WIA and we have no support or reinforcements. I doubt we could even take a squad of grubs now, let alone a well-defended facility.”

“We’ll think of something. Echo Three’s only failed, what…one mission? And that was because Ven chuked all over Stroud’s uniform,” Marov said he smiled around his pain, remembering the South Islander’s actions costing them the credit of the mission. They’d completed it, but the then Lieutenant Stroud had been so mad she’d blotted out their involvement. Marov didn’t particularly want the credit, though, seeing as how they’d had to take over an innocent village in neutral territory. The Pendulum Wars seemed like forever ago.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Marov supposed that was as good an answer as he was bound to get.


	14. Haunted Echo I

Mining Way station, Outer Hollow;  
1450 hours

Eventually, the glow sticks Jason had found died away, leaving them in darkness. Indicator lights winked hauntingly in the pitch black, bobbing as their owners moved with their hands stretched out in front of them. Marov took the opportunity to get some much needed rest. Leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, he hoped he wasn’t going to wake up with the ceiling falling down on him or Jonesy somehow messing with something to vent all the air. However, with his finger still throbbing painfully despite the blood clotting, he fell into unconsciousness almost immediately.

“Daddy”

Almost as immediately, at least to his perception of time, Marov’s eyes opened again, staring into the lightless room. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard something rustle against the metallic floor. His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow, knowing deep down in his gut that there was something sinister in the room with him. He stood up with his injured hand braced against the wall, reaching for his sidearm. The hard, bone hilt felt frozen, whispers of pain exuding from it causing him to drop it in surprise. He watched it’s journey to the floor in what seemed like slow motion, a pale radiance glowing from the pistol.

Somehow the gun went off as it hit the ground, the brilliant flash lighting up the immediate area for a second. Marov saw a small form fall in that fleeting moment of brightness, a cry of pain grating across his eardrums in a familiar voice. No, that couldn’t be right. She was dead.

All logical thought flew out of his head as he heard her whimpering, his body automatically moving to where he had seen the girl fall. He quickly fell to his knees, the heavy knee pads thudding against the ground as he reached out to find his little girl.

“Daddy?”

“I’m here, darlin’,” Marov choked out, a faint light similar to his pistol illuminating his deceased daughter’s face. “I’m here. Don’t move. I’m here.”

“It hurts,” the girl replied stutteringly, luminescent tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Marov’s chest tightened, a hollow feeling like someone had just torn out his heart occurring. Panic coursed through his body at a breakneck pace, his own eyes moistening with sorrow as he examined the wound. A hole the size of his thumb stood out against his little girl’s stomach, blood soaking her pink, doll-like dress. A gut wound, then, a detached voice said in his mind.

“I know, baby. I know. Just, just don’t move. It’ll be okay, daddy’s here,” Marov said, his throat burning with an acidic, bitter taste. He didn’t waste any more time talking as he tried to figure out a way to save her, his finger already pressing against the wound to stem the bleeding. She yelled out as he did so, almost causing Marov to pull his hand back. However, he just gritted his teeth against the awful task and kept pushing, stroking his daughter’s face with his free hand.

“Stop it! You’re hurting me!” she half cried, half yelled, slapping away his hand from her face. With surprising strength, she pushed him away, tumbling onto his back. Marov looked up confusedly as she somehow stood over him, the blood still streaming from her wound and darkening the dress. Suddenly, his daughter’s skin darkened to a wholesome brown, her clothing shifting into familiar rags.

“You couldn’t save us,” Naleena sneered, Marov’s pistol appearing in her hand. “You had all the tools, all the power to keep us alive and you failed.”

“No, no, I tried,” he croaked out, wincing as the woman standing over him threw her head back and laughed. The mad, cackling sounded like two people, one sad and full of blame while the other was tinged with anger and bitterness.

“You tried?” the woman replied, the strange twin vocals continuing as her face morphed back to his daughter’s fair features, still wearing the rags. “That wasn’t good enough, was it? You couldn’t save your daughter. You couldn’t save me. So we died. Thanks to you.”

His daughter examined the pistol in her hand, stroking the bone as a haunted scream echoed in Marov’s mind. With her face returning to Naleena’s sneer, she pointed the pistol at his face.

“You killed and took this man’s self, to remind you of something. How you failed to protect us the first time, promising yourself what?” Naleena grinned madly, continuing in a piercing tone. “That you wouldn’t let it happen again? And yet, it did.”

Marov laid his head back and stared at the light coming from the ceiling, thoughts of blame and disgust running through his mind. It was his fault. He couldn’t protect anyone. With his beard wet with tears, he closed his eyes and waited for the end.


End file.
